``I am far too gallant to agree with you.But I'm also too gallant to contradict a lady.By the way, you must be careful in dealing with Siddall.Rich people like to be fawned on, but not to be slobbered on.
You went entirely too far.''
Mrs.Presbury, whom indigestion had rendered stupid, could think of no reply.So she burst into tears.
``And my own daughter sitting silent while that man insults her mother!'' she sobbed.
Mildred sat stiff and cold.
``It'll be a week before I recover from that dinner,''
Presbury went on sourly.``What a dinner! What a villainous mess! These vulgar, showy rich! That champagne! He said it cost him six dollars a bottle, and no doubt it did.I doubt if it ever saw France.
The dealers rarely waste genuine wine on such cattle.
The wine-cellars of fine houses the world through are the laughing-stock of connoisseurs--like their picture-galleries and their other attempts to make money do the work of taste.I forgot to put my pills in my bag.
I'll have to hunt up an all-night drug-store.I'd not dare go to bed without taking an antidote for that poison.''
But Presbury had not been altogether improvident.
He had hoped great things of Bill Siddall's wine-cellar --this despite an almost unbroken series of bitter disillusionments and disappointments in experience with those who had the wealth to buy, if they had had the taste to select, the fine wines he loved.So, resolving to indulge himself, he had put into his bag his pair of gout-boots.
This was a device of his own inventing, on which he prided himself.It consisted of a pair of roomy doe-skin slippers reenforced with heavy soles and provided with a set of three thin insoles to be used according as the state of his toes made advisable.The cost of the Presbury gout-boot had been, thanks to patient search for a cheap cobbler, something under four dollars--this, when men paid shoe specialists twenty, thirty, and even forty dollars a pair for gout-boots that gave less comfort.The morning after the dinner at which he had drunk to drown his chagrin and to give him courage and tongue for sycophantry, he put on the boots.
Without them it would have been necessary to carry him from his room to a cab and from cab to train.With them he was able to hobble to a street-car.He tried to distract his mind from his sufferings by lashing away without ceasing at his wife and his step-daughter.
When they were once more at home, and the mother and daughter escaped from him, the mother said:
``I was glad to see that you put up with that wretch, and didn't answer him back.''
``Of course,'' said Mildred.``He's mad to be rid of me, but if I offended him he might snatch away this chance.''
``He would,'' said Mrs.Presbury.``I'm sure he would.But--'' she laughed viciously--``once you're married you can revenge yourself--and me!''
``I wonder,'' said Mildred thoughtfully.
``Why not?'' exclaimed her mother, irritated.
``I can't make Mr.Presbury out,'' replied the girl.
``I understand why he's helping me to this chance, but I don't understand why he isn't ****** friends with me, in the hope of getting something after I'm married.''
Her mother saw the point, and was instantly agitated.
``Perhaps he's simply leading you on, intending to up-set it all at the last minute.'' She gritted her teeth.
``Oh, what a wretch!''
Mildred was not heeding.``I must have General Siddall looked up carefully,'' she went on.``It may be that he isn't rich, or that he has another wife somewhere, or that there's some other awful reason why marrying him would be even worse than it seems.''
``Worse than it seems!'' cried her mother.``How CAN you talk so, Milly! The general seems to be an ideal husband--simply ideal! I wish _I_ had your chance.Any sensible woman could love him.''
A strange look came into the girl's face, and her mother could not withstand her eyes.``Don't, mother,''
she said quietly.``Either you take me for a fool or you are trying to show me that you have no self-respect.I am not deceiving myself about what I'm doing.''
Mrs.Presbury opened her lips to remonstrate, changed her mind, drew a deep sigh.``It's frightful to be a woman,'' she said.
``To be a lady, Mr.Presbury would say,'' suggested Mildred.
After some discussion, they fixed upon Joseph Tilker as the best available investigator of General Siddall.
Tilker had been head clerk for Henry Gower.He was now in for himself and had offered to look after any legal business Mrs.Presbury might have without charging her.He presently reported that there was not a doubt as to the wealth of the little general.
``There are all sorts of ugly stories about how he made his money,'' said Tilker; ``but all the great fortunes have a scandalous history, and I doubt if Siddall's is any worse than the others.I don't see how it well could be.Siddall has the reputation of being a mean and cruel little tyrant.He is said to be pompous, vain, ignorant--''
``Indeed he's not,'' cried Mrs.Presbury.``He's a rough diamond, but a natural gentleman.I've met him.''
``Well, he's rich enough, and that was all you asked me to find out,'' said Tilker.``But I must warn you, Mrs.Presbury, not to have any business or intimate personal relations with him.''
Mrs.Presbury congratulated herself on her wisdom in having come alone to hear Tilker's report.She did not repeat any part of it to Mildred except what he had said about the wealth.That she enlarged upon until Mildred's patience gave out.She interrupted with a shrewd:
``Anything else, mamma? Anything about him personally?''
``We've got to judge him in that way for ourselves,''
replied Mrs.Presbury.``You know how wickedly they lie about anyone who has anything.''
``I should like to read a full account of General Siddall,'' said Mildred reflectively; ``just to satisfy my curiosity.''
Mrs.Presbury made no reply.
